Séance and Sensibility
by satan-chillin
Summary: While locked up in another mausoleum training, Klaus escaped and ran away. And met the God of Mischief.
1. Chapter 1

His father didn't say where they would be going, but the sense of foreboding was unmistakable.

Pogo's face was grim when he opened the door, unable to look at Klaus when he held out the umbrella to his head and led him behind Sir Hargreeves.

While it was a short walk, it was eerie, probably because of the rows of graves they passed by. Klaus kept his head down, not wanting to turn to his left where a wailing lady was floating beside him; nor did he crane his neck to look behind him, where he could feel a cold flutter of breeze that was akin to fingers reaching for his nape. Pogo and Sir Reginald didn't react to the noises and the number of presence accompanying them so Klaus pretended not to see or hear any of them.

But _god _they were so noisy and Klaus wanted them to stop and leave him be. A few minutes of peace was all he wanted.

"We're here," Sir Reginald announced primly, looking down at Klaus inscrutably, one eye behind his monocle.

It was a mausoleum; smaller, but the size of it wasn't able to ease Klaus's anxiety as to what lay beyond the old double doors.

Sir Reginald reached out to Klaus, and for a moment Klaus thought his father would pull him close and hold him to assuage his fears the way he had seen a father did to his son once when Klaus and his siblings rescued the two.

Sir Reginald did nothing of the sort. Instead, he held Klaus firmly by the shoulders and ushered Klaus inside when Pogo opened the doors.

"You'll stay here for eight hours," Sir Reginald said, his tone no more than what he used in reading the news to them. "Once I return, I expect progress from you, Number Four."

* * *

When Klaus came back later, his temperature was no different from the spirits that kept him company, the spirits that oppressed him.

The slight difference was Klaus could feel the chill seeping to his bones, his teeth chattering. He was alive compared to the ghosts who could feel nothing but hatred and thirst for vengeance.

When a living boy who could hear and see them was placed in the middle of their sanctuary, they moved to drive the intruder out, not knowing that Klaus wanted to escape just as badly.

Nobody could break through the padlocked door.

Not even Klaus.

* * *

Sir Reginald was dissatisfied with the results.

The following week, Klaus returned to that dreaded place.

* * *

Sir Reginald remained dissatisfied with the lack of progress.

The following week, he brought Klaus again and put him there with an additional three hours.

* * *

Klaus accidentally summoned a random ghost in the middle of lunch, and Sir Reginald reprimanded him for the interruption.

The ghost was from the mausoleum, the one Klaus remembered the most because of her disfigured face and bashed head. It was nothing personal.

It wasn't counted as an improvement to Sir Reginald—a disappointment, more like.

"Focus and stability. Those two should be fundamental to you, Number Four," Sir Reginald said, pushing Klaus to master them once more.

He didn't forget to return Klaus to the mausoleum.

* * *

Klaus already lost count, but he knew it has been a year already.

The first time Sir Reginald brought him here, it was his birthday. The birthday he shared with his siblings.

Klaus was too sick with dread to eat the cake Mom made for each of them. He didn't want to waste a good birthday cake with colorful icings and tiny candles lit on top, so Klaus forced a few forkfuls of them.

"Thank you for the cake, Mom," Klaus said sincerely before excusing himself.

He went to the bathroom and promptly threw up what he had eaten. What he flushed down the toilet was a disgusting blob of blue and white icing mixed with bile. Klaus wasn't in a hurry to clean up. In an hour, Sir Reginald would come and fetch him.

The slow trickle of time was torture.

* * *

Klaus was shivering when he crossed the threshold. The doors closed behind him, and he could hear the thick lock clicking in place with finality.

Belatedly, he noticed his companions restless than usual, which was ironic because they should have gotten used to his presence while Klaus wasn't. He never did.

He sat in a corner, head low as he murmured a birthday song. The act managed to give him a little comfort, distracting him from the boy who sat opposite him and was asking him for help to find his mother.

Klaus felt sorry that he couldn't help. He has this ability that only brought him fright, which only made him wish he was in Vanya's place instead. The outside world celebrated his name among his superpowered siblings, but they never knew what kind of lives they have, what kind of life _he _has.

His own brothers and sisters didn't even know where he was right at this moment.

"I'm sorry," Klaus said to the boy. He was always there whenever Klaus was here, though this was the first Klaus addressed him. "I can't help you."

_Because I'm a disappointment myself._

He must be, among the rest who have powers. When he thought about it, Vanya was the luckiest of them, because Sir Reginald didn't expect any from her aside from improving her violin practice. And she was improving.

Klaus yearned for that simple life, but most dire of all was to be out of here, out of the mausoleum that he despised.

He closed his eyes, and since it was his birthday today he should be afforded that one wish.

Klaus fervently wished to be out.

He hardly registered his fists glowing blue, the ghosts scrambling to get away from him and avoiding the explosion that busted the doors open.

Klaus ran away and never looked back.

* * *

Klaus avoided the crowd of bodies that met him on the streets. A left turn and a right and he was already lost in the maze of a city.

He should have gone out often.

The rain poured again, and he was forced to wait under a stop shed. After two hours, the weather worsened and the evening deepened. Klaus was getting hungry every minute.

He rubbed his hands together to warm himself. A part of him was glad that the chill came from the climate this time and not from… other sources.

Still, it appeared that he would be cold again tonight.

He wondered if his siblings were looking for him. Probably not at this hour; Sir Reginald had surely given them the training bullshit every time Klaus wasn't around. How about tomorrow when he wasn't present at the table? Would they ask for him and look?

He would miss them: Mom, Ben, Vanya, Diego, Allison, Five, even Luther.

Was Klaus ready not to see them again? Suddenly, running away seemed a very bad idea.

* * *

Sometime later, the rain stopped, and the big clock read 3:14 AM. No kid should be out at this hour, but Klaus ambled around.

Outside was infinitely loads better than inside the mausoleum, he thought, until the alleys became darker and each turn he would make were somehow ominous.

Klaus made a sudden right that inexplicably rose the hairs on his neck. A ghost? No, it didn't completely feel like that.

"Hey, boy, isn't it past your bedtime?" a male voice leered, prompting Klaus to run faster without turning to see what the man looked like.

Klaus didn't pause as the heavy footsteps were upon him, menacing and creeping nearer and nearer—

He collided with something solid—or rather, someone.

"I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't looking," Klaus mumbled hastily, sidestepping from the man he hit.

"Obviously, if you can't even look while apologizing," the man scoffed.

Klaus hazarded a glance up to the stranger and found arresting green eyes staring back at him. The green-eyed man held his shoulder with one hand and refused to let go.

"I'm sorry, really," Klaus said, shrugging away from the man's grip. He began to panic when it barely budged. "Sorry, sir, I just have to—"

"Escape _that_?" The man cocked his head slightly. "I don't blame you. That's one ugly spirit."

Klaus stopped struggling and looked back to find a grotesque form that wasn't clearly a man, horrifying than any of the ghosts Klaus had encountered before.

He wasn't lacking with bad days, was he?

The green-eyed stranger regarded Klaus briefly, unperturbed at the sight of the appalling creature. "Stay close," he said.

And Klaus watched, wide-eyed in fascination as something formed at the man's hand. The movement was quick, but Klaus couldn't have mistaken it.

A knife shot past from the same hand and went straight in the middle of the creature's face. At least, if that was its face. It howled in pain and thrashed towards them in swift succession.

The man flicked his wrist, and then green chains appeared and bound the monster easily and pulled it to the ground as if knocking its breath out. The man murmured something unintelligible, and the creature was no more, disintegrated right in front of Klaus's eyes.

Klaus gasped once the moment caught up to him. "Was that—you did magic!"

"You think?" the man said, leaning down. "You'll be forgetting that now. You saw nothing."

He snapped his fingers and sparks flew across Klaus's eyes. Klaus blinked. "I can't forget that!" he insisted, indignant.

The man seemed perplexed. "What?"

"You did magic. Green magic!"

The man's brows rose higher, considering. "You resisted it," he stated flatly. "How could you…" He waved a hand dismissively. "And you also saw _that_," he said accusingly.

"Um, yes. Shouldn't I?" Klaus remembered that yes, he shouldn't have. It was a weird creature that was unlike and akin to a ghost at the same time.

"Humans shouldn't," the man snapped. "Unless you're one of those with extra senses." He hummed to himself. "I've read of your kind."

Kind of useless now to deny. "I can see ghosts," Klaus admitted, chewing on his bottom lip.

"I have the same conclusion," the man said dryly. "I'm more interested in how you can repel my memory-altering magic."

"I don't?" Klaus was confused as to what this man was driving at.

"Come with me," the man ordered.

"Hey!" Klaus exclaimed when the man pulled him by the elbow. "My dad said I shouldn't leave with strangers."

"You shouldn't have talked to strangers, but here we are," the stranger pointed out. "Besides, not at least interested in my magic?"

Klaus sure as hell was. "No fair," he grumbled.

"That's what I thought." The man smirked. "More to the point, I shouldn't be a stranger to you or to any of your kind."

Klaus wondered what was up with the third person and 'your kind' thing. What a weird guy. "Fine, I'll bite. Who are you, mister?"

If it was even possible, the man's smirk widened.

"A god."

* * *

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Loki inclined his head, prodding at the mind of the child across him.

Nothing.

With the way the child scarfed the Midgardian dish without any reaction from the poking Loki was doing on his mind, it was obvious that the boy was also unaware of his own mental guard.

Loki was torn between frustrated and impressed at the psychic block the boy seemed to naturally have.

"So," the boy began, talking with his mouth full. Loki refrained from clucking his tongue at the display of terrible table manners. "I'm Klaus Hargreeves, sir."

"I didn't ask," Loki said before he could stop himself. The boy's manners must be rubbing off on him in the short span of time. He mustered a charming smile. "But it is nice of you to introduce yourself first, Klaus. I am Loki of Asgard."

Klaus took a huge gulp. "Like the Asgard in Norse Mythology, and Loki brother of Thor?"

Ah, yes, Midgard has records of Asgard written down as mythology despite the incredible inaccuracy on most accounts. "In a way, but you're right about my brother."

"I never did think all that lessons in mythology will be useful someday. I might have to thank Pogo—"

Loki observed him quieten and fiddled with the cup handle. Klaus hastily hid the wobbling of his lip by drinking the scalding beverage.

Loki didn't comment on the matter. "I thought it would take more convincing to persuade you of my identity." Not that Loki cared if this Midgardian boy believed him, but as long as Loki's curiosity remain unsated, he would stick by this one while he go deal with what he was supposed to take care of down here.

"Are you kidding me? You pretty much proved you're a god with the green magic thing and the food."

"Food," Loki repeated flatly.

"Gods are generous, aren't they?"

"Not all of us are. I can name a few who lack it," Loki offered _generously_ since Klaus got the notion he possessed it. It would be easier for Loki to have the boy hold him in a positive regard. "You'll find that they have matters to attend to. Mostly."

"What are you doing down here then?" Klaus asked. He blinked. "Oh! You're after those spirit things, aren't you? Like the one you took down."

"Yes," came Loki's clipped reply. Klaus didn't have to know that it was partly the fault of Loki's sorcery why those creatures were running amok among the humans. "It makes me wonder, though, how you saw that. I've heard of your kind, and I'm interested to know more from a person who's one of these… special," Loki said, imploring, because if there was a trait that anyone across the Nine Realms shared, it was the enthusiasm to talk about one's self and their deemed uniqueness.

"Compared to other children, yeah, you can say we're special," Klaus said wryly. "They think it's amazing, and I guess it is. But if they know what my ability entailed, I don't think they'll like it."

"What does it entail, this extrasensory perception of yours?"

"It's more complicated than ESP, sir. It's more of seeing and hearing them clearly, attracting them unconsciously, and being able to summon them accidentally, but I can't control the latter just yet."

Loki frowned. "That's it?" At Klaus's confusion, Loki elaborated, "Your ability, those are the extent of it?"

"Er, yes, I think so, sir."

Klaus was indeed unaware of his guarded mind. Was it perchance related to his connection to spirits in order to keep them away from invading his person? The dead were attracted to those who could see them. Like flies were to honey. A summoning of a spirit was no small feat, accidental or not, without dabbling in the art of necromancy. And yet to Klaus it seemed as natural as breathing.

Fascinating, Loki begrudgingly admitted to himself.

"I wish I don't have it," Klaus quietly said. "Or something else instead. I won't even mind a useless power. No powers sounds just fine too. My sister's lucky to be not like the rest of us."

Loki's attention was piqued. "Your siblings are like you?"

"Six out of seven of us. Our abilities vary."

"Truly?" It wasn't impossible for a number of them to be present in the same generation. In fact, the last time Loki was down here, several were persecuted and accused of colluding with the dark forces. But for them to belong under a single roof and blood related? "Your parents must be like you and your siblings." Doubtful they were human even. Asgardians? Possibly. Loki knew quite a few of his kind who happened to be adventurous.

If he knew Thor taking trips in Midgard, he would be his prime suspect of siring non-human children. Loki grimaced. He still couldn't dismiss the chance that the boy in front of him was a nephew.

"I don't think so," Klaus answered, eyeing Loki warily. "Sir Hargreeves doesn't display any kind of power, if he has any at all. Mom—it's impossible. She's not exactly living, you see. She's an android."

Loki racked his brain as to what that that term meant. "An android."

"A robot but they look human. Sir Hargreeves made her every bit as one. She's wonderful even if she's not a true person, you know." Klaus's eyes lowered. "She doesn't have to be one to be a good mom."

Adopted children, Loki concluded. That explained most things. And this Sir Hargreeves managed to find six with special abilities. "She must be, if she can endure your late-night runaway attitude."

Klaus's expression shuttered.

"I'm not exactly a model kid, but this is the first time that I ran away," Klaus confessed. "And the last. I won't be coming back to them, sir."

A rotund elderly woman working for the establishment came close to ask them whether they wanted a refill. Loki snapped his drink empty without taking any drop and refused politely. He nodded at Klaus instead, and for a second, the woman was hesitant to give Klaus a refill. After a look of disapproval towards Loki, she promptly filled Klaus's cup with the dark beverage.

"That's a rather bold decision for a kid," Loki idly commented once the woman left. "Independence is subjective, but you're hardly at the age capable of self-sustenance." He watched as uncertainty dawned on the child's face. He hadn't thought it through, clearly. "I don't blame you for wanting to run away and learn outside on your own, but at the end of the day you'll be eager to return to the security of your home."

"I'm not—" Klaus bit his lip. "It's not what you think it is, sir."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are you sure it's not all about wanting to prove to your guardians that you can stand on your own?" He taunted. "Not trying to get the attention of your mother and father? You have quite a number of competition after all."

Klaus shook his head furiously, his face crumpling. "I don't care about any of that. Yes, I want to go home because of my siblings and Mom, but I don't want to go back because if I return, Sir Reginald will—He will—He will lock me back _there_, and I hate every second I spent in there. I hate that the ghosts clung to me like I could bring them back to life, like I could do something about their unjust deaths. I never asked to have this powers, and I wish… I _wish _I've been born ordinary because at least I can live and sleep normally."

He exhaled sharply. "I got the chance to escape. I don't know how, but I grabbed it the moment I found it."

Loki glanced away from the sight of the crying boy. He had been blunt, yes, but he wasn't feeling _guilty _for pointing out the truth. Fortunately, they weren't getting other people's attention; not that there were plenty of them around.

Loki's mouth twitched. It was unsettling how the child was weeping across him. He was never good at handling children, and it was Thor who was fond of them. But Loki was the adult in the present situation and the least he could do was act like one.

He directed his gaze on the white cup and summoned a bit of magic. At his command, it easily turned softer, rounder, then grew ears and a tail. White-furred flesh formed and replaced the porcelain, and what was once an inanimate object turned to something else, something alive and moving. A whiskered nose turned up in the air to sniff and approach Klaus's hand on the table.

"Um, wow," Klaus said as he gently scooped the mouse with his palms until it dissolved into a puff of glittering green particles. It was intended to be a pretty display. "I didn't ask for a pet, but thank you… sir." His voice remained glum, though there was an ounce of awe there to let Loki knew that he succeeded on distracting him.

"Loki." He was never for honorifics aside from what he usually received as a prince, but Klaus wasn't an Asgardian for him to address Loki as royalty.

It earned him a weak smile. "Loki it is."

Loki gestured for them to leave seeing as Klaus was done eating. The boy only asked where to next once they were outside the wet road. Loki didn't say, though he asked:

"You said you were locked up earlier," he said in an even tone. "Why?"

"Sir Reginald was—_is_ dissatisfied with my performance. He believes that I'm not making a progress in reaching the peak of what I'm capable of. I have the slowest development among my brothers and sister. He said that I should be the master of my fears, so the best way for me to move forward is to place me in an environment where I can utilize my skills within a given period of time. It's always a mausoleum for me."

Loki could see the practicality of it if it was supposed to function as a training. Cruel, perhaps, but effective for a person willing to undergo the regimen.

It was also the least ideal method for a boy with undeveloped sensibilities and more sensitive to other things aside from emotions.

Upon reflection, Loki was quick to realize that it was Klaus himself who was hindering his own advancement.

"You have to go back. You won't last on your own."

"But I can!" Klaus said defiantly. "I will! I can come with you. I can help with hunting down those ghosties you're looking for!"

"Doubtful. I can perfectly see them on my own." Loki scoffed. "Not only you'll be a liability, but what makes you think I'll be sticking that long here? I'll be gone as soon as I'm done. Where will that left you if I let you tag along?"

"I'll cross the bridge when I get there, but for now I'd like to be anywhere but inside the mausoleum."

Loki was beginning to regret taking the boy with him.

"_Please_. This is the only request I'll ever ask of you."

Loki wasn't sure about that, but then again it would be awhile, possibly another generation, before he returned here. By then, Klaus was no longer around.

Loki could indulge the Midgardian with his rather ambiguous request, and Klaus would thank him for it. In a bout of mischief, Loki held the boy's shoulder and transported them to another place entirely, somewhere with the sundown only mere hours ago. Loki wasn't certain where in Midgard this was, though he was aware they were in another country with less concrete jungle and lusher grassland.

Klaus fell on the ground without complain, rolling as if a man basking on his newfound freedom—at least, for as long he could afford it.

He must have known he was borrowing time, Loki mused. Klaus was no idiot despite his obstinacy, Loki could allow that much. The boy had simply desired this experience, and after all was said and done, he would yearn for what he considered home.

A young mind was as fitful as that, and Loki greatly understood.

When Klaus promptly fell asleep out of exhaustion, Loki let him to it, a pillow and a blanket later.

* * *

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

When Klaus woke up to the familiar ceiling of his bedroom, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved that the previous evening was a dream or be disappointed that it was.

Although he didn't remember returning on his own volition nor Loki escorting him back to the mansion, the latter was the likeliest since Loki was a god, wasn't he? Locating the mansion and dumping Klaus back here must have taken him only a snap of his fingers the same way he brought Klaus to personally see the Aurora Borealis last night.

Loki was a god, and saddling himself with a prepubescent boy was troublesome enough as it was without the said boy's grand delusion of emancipation and living on his own.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Klaus was really freaking stupid for thinking he could make it. It was too frustrating that he couldn't even do something as simple as running away.

No wonder Sir Reginald was always disappointed—Klaus failed even himself after all.

* * *

Klaus trudged down to the dining hall for breakfast where his siblings were already present. If he got a critical look from Sir Reginald for being late for a few minutes, it was nothing new.

He ended up pushing his food around his plate as he sat there listless and quiet. It was the usual morning affair for the Hargreeves: the playing lecture by someone named Stiglitz in the background, Mom standing and smiling benignly by Sir Reginald's side as if he couldn't bother at least giving her one of the empty seats, and of course, the rest of them minding their own businesses.

There was not a single furtive glance thrown Klaus's way, and he supposed that pretty much told him that nobody knew. Or they didn't care.

Klaus felt his sleeve being tugged and found Ben's inquisitive stare on top of his book. Klaus opened his mouth to speak but remembered the golden rule. He mouthed a 'later'.

Ben, however, was quite determined to get answers from him immediately, pulling out a small sticky note and pen. _Where were you last night? _

Klaus took the pen and paper, touched because the fact that Ben noticed meant someone was actually worried. _You went to my room? _

Ben shrugged when he read the question. _Dad didn't catch me. So where were you? _

Ah, could Klaus even fit in the small piece of paper what happened and therefore settling for a: _I saw the Northern Lights. _

"Number Four! Number Six!" Sir Reginald called them to attention. "What did I say about talking during mealtimes?"

They weren't even speaking, Klaus wanted to retort if he had the energy.

"Any form of communication, verbal or otherwise, is not allowed on the table," Sir Reginald reminded them firmly as if reading Klaus's mind.

"Sorry, sir," Ben muttered beside Klaus, crumpling the paper and slipping it in his pocket.

Klaus didn't miss the way Ben sent him a look that basically said: _We'll talk later._

* * *

"I met a god."

"… A what?"

"A god, Ben. You know your Norse Pantheon, yeah? It was Loki!"

"Loki of Norse Mythology," Ben echoed. "The Trickster God."

"Yes! Him! I didn't know they're real, but he is, Ben. He has magic and he treated me to a diner and teleported me with him where we could see the Northern Lights! It was amazing!"

"Klaus, um," Ben began unsurely. Klaus looked better than how he had been that morning. There was an excited gleam in his eyes when he enthusiastically told Ben what had transpired the night that he was absent. Ben didn't want to discourage Klaus's good mood, but… "Are you okay?"

Klaus stared at him like he didn't know where the sudden question came from until his expression shuttered into that of dismay. "You don't believe me."

Ben bit the inside of his cheek. "Look, Klaus, I know it's not the… grass that you've been experimenting with that you're having these, uh, strange visions," he tried putting in delicately. "All I'm saying is that you tell me if you're not okay. Don't think I didn't notice how ill you look the next morning whenever Dad would take you to train the evening previous. You were always pale, distant, like you were ready to throw up. I never asked you before because I honestly thought you'll tell me if you're not feeling well."

"And you think my sanity broke, is that it?" Klaus accused bitterly. "But I'm not lying or delusional! I was in training then I escaped and met Loki last night."

"How did you escape?"

It took Klaus a moment to reply. "I don't know! I was locked inside the mausoleum and the next thing I knew I was out. It didn't matter, Ben!"

Ben looked horrified at the answer, his mouth open. "Dad locked you up inside a place with the dead? For hours?" he said incredulously. "Oh, Klaus."

The one person Klaus expected to understand him wasn't hearing what he wanted to say. He hated even more the pity that Ben was giving him.

Angry and disappointed, Klaus pushed his way past Ben and rushed back indoors.

* * *

It wasn't until three days later when an emerald velvet envelope found its way to Reginald Hargreeves's office, stamped with a wax sigil of two snakes entwined with each other that formed the letter 'S'.

Reginald Hargreeves regarded the parchment with an analytical eye, reading the letter eight times before deciding on the validity of it. Once he was done, Pogo was waiting, steadfast, for the order that he knew was to come.

"Make preparations. We will be receiving a guest this evening."

Pogo nodded without question, excusing himself with a slight bow. "Certainly, sir."

* * *

Evening rolled in too quickly and they were sent to their beds earlier than usual. While they knew better than to raise a stink over it, Five was restlessly suspicious.

They were expected to sleep early because someone would be arriving at the mansion, he concluded. It hadn't been his intention to eavesdrop, though he had been there to overhear Sir Reginald talking about a guest later that evening.

Five sneaked out of his room once he was sure that Mom was done checking in on them and was already downstairs to receive this 'guest' with Pogo and Sir Reginald. He dodged the security cameras that he knew were positioned in the hallway, popping in and out to the blind spots. By the time Five was situated by the balustrade, hidden, the front door was opened and Sir Reginald strolled into sight with Mom, Pogo, and a tall man.

Five didn't recognize him one bit. Curiously, he observed the man with a frown and took in the stranger's sharp cheekbones, his black shoulder-length hair, and the way he dressed in all black except for his green scarf the color of poison. He walked beside Sir Reginald with an amiable smile and with a polite disposition.

For a moment, the term 'proper gentleman' came to Five's mind, unbidden.

Five rolled his eyes to himself. This man was probably what Sir Reginald expected the boys to become outside their superhero business.

The guest was led, unsurprisingly, to the drawing room instead of Sir Reginald's office. If Sir Reginald didn't want even the children to enter his office, what more a stranger?

To Five's sudden alarm, though, the man's piercing green eyes met him from down below and held his gaze. Five, shocked, was unable to look away for a second until the man smirked at him and pretended not to see Five when Sir Reginald noticed him taking a pause.

It was Five's signal to beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

The following morning, the seven of them were present when a black car came into view. Sir Reginald didn't tell them anything aside from receiving a guest, which was twice in a row now but of course, he never told them of the mysterious man from last evening. Five was the only one aware of the count and was more intrigued than the rest after the previous occurrence.

The vehicle stopped and emerged a boy in an academy uniform that was more green and gold and embroidered with two snakes twisted together; at a distance, the symbol resembled the letter 'S'.

The boy took note of the mansion and the entirety of it, hardly impressed. Sir Reginald was the first to welcome the boy.

"Welcome to the Umbrella Academy, Thomas."

* * *

**TBC **


End file.
